Sounds of Love
by TheSoulReader
Summary: An AU where architect Maka meets Deaf!Soul. Oooo! I have a general idea of where this is going, but not a clue of how long it will be. Rated M because I like to swear...a lot. But no smutty loving for awhile. Not my characters, but definitely my playground! Thanks for the loan, Okubo!
1. Scuttle, Scurry, Sorry

**A/N: ****Hello hello my lovelies! So, I've finished my first fanfic (Senseless), and decided to start on another. I was attempting to go to sleep, but that resulted in an epic fail, as I was thinking up new story lines. I had read elsewhere about someone having come up with Blind!Maka fic, and I thought "Dude, somebody should do Deaf!Soul!"**

**I'm relatively sure it already exists somewhere, but I've not yet found it, so I'm doin' it :p**

**This first chapter is incredibly short, but it is meant as more of a lead in without being a prologue. We'll see how far I get in the next few days :) Enjoy!**

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><p>Maka Albarn hurriedly power walked down the sidewalk, cursing every few feet as she tripped in the absolutely ludicrous high heels she had chosen to wear for the day. She was late. Oh fuck she was so goddamn late! Kid was going to murder her. Murder her right in the face. Shit! She was making the white rabbit look punctual.<p>

The day had not been off to a promising start. Her alarm had failed to go off which meant she barely had time to shower, there had been **no** time for breakfast, and, most heinous of all, no time for coffee. This had forced her to stop off at a local chain where they (un)miraculously managed to screw up her order. One wouldn't think it would be so hard to fill the request of black coffee to go, but apparently such simplicity escaped the "baristas" (a laughable title, she thought).

Kid had wanted to see her at 8 AM sharp. He couldn't see her at ten, even though it was an even number (he had pointed out that "even" and "symmetrical" were **not** the same thing), and nine was absolutely out of the question. He'd nearly fainted at the mere suggestion. Him and his damn need for symmetry.

And of course, when she thought things could not possibly get worse, they did. Maka suddenly found herself sprawled out on the cold cement and someone in front of her was shrieking like a maniac. She dazedly looked up and her eyes widened as she struggled to her feet. Dancing in front of her like a lunatic was a white haired man, wildly tugging his formerly white Radiohead t-shirt away from his chest. A skull shaped ear bud dangled limply on one side of his head, having been popped from his ear, and music blared from it angrily.

"Oh, Death! I am **so sorry**!" she cried out, pathetically pulling a couple of tissues from her purse to try and dab at the lunatic's shirt.

He was having none of it and shoved her hands away rudely, attempting to push his ear bud back into its rightful spot.

"Hey! Come on, I'm just trying to help! It was an accident!"

He continued to ignore her, his hands digging in his pockets, seemingly searching for something.

Maka reached out and tapped him roughly on the shoulder, forcing him to look up at her. She was mildly startled to see striking red eyes instead of a "normal" color, but she pushed down her surprise and scowled at him.

"What the hell?!" she growled at him. "I'm **trying** to apologize to you! What are you, deaf?" she crossed her arms and snorted derisively.

The crimson eyed man blinked at her momentarily before a wicked grin crossed his face and he held up a rectangular card that simply read in bold block letters: **YES**

Son of a bitch.

Maka gasped and covered her mouth with both her hands, eyes flicking back and forth from the card in his hand to the smirk on his face. The laughter was evident in his eyes. She felt herself turning crimson and swore that her flush matched the color of his ruby gaze.

She didn't bother attempting to say anything further as she scurried away from the scene of the crime.


	2. Caught in a Corner

**A/N: So, first off, I'm going to apologize for this chapter being a bit disjointed. I didn't want to rush it, but at the same time I have other ideas that are more important than this. Secondly, I apologize for Black*Star. I honestly can't stand the character, so he's hard for me to write. But I also find him wholly necessary in this particular instance. You won't see a lot of him, but...you'll see enough of him.**

**Tsubaki will make an appearance soon enough ^_^ Chapter 3 will be incredibly enjoyable I think**

**I apologize for my addiction to commas...and ellipses.**

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><p>Maka managed to slink into the Shinigami Architecture building at 8:37 AM. She cringed as she peered through the doorway, hoping against hope to avoid Death the Kid. As she crept inside, making a beeline for the coffee maker, she once again found herself pondering the curiosity that was Kid.<p>

She had no idea what his original name was. She forced herself to refrain from thinking of whatever it had been as "his real name" since his name was legally "Death the Kid", and that was his real name as far as anybody was concerned. Friends simply referred to him as Kid, which included those under his employ. But architectural rivals and others within the business cryptically referred to him as Lord Death.

Maka slipped into the break room, smiling brightly at the pot of freshly brewed coffee. Her triumph was quickly thwarted as a poised voice quietly stated, "You're late."

She paled and hung her head in abject dejection, more so from once again being denied the wonderful fuel that was caffeine than humiliation of being caught by Kid. She looked up at him and smiled sheepishly, shoulders hunched in apology.

He leaned against a counter, a single eyebrow raised, and casually sipped on his tea. He was tall and surprisingly lanky for his age with elegant aristocratic features and two toned golden eyes. His hair was raven black save for three horizontal white lines that encircled the left side of his head. They used to drive him absolutely mad, but medication and therapy (**so much therapy**) had helped him cope.

Kid was remarkably easygoing for all the responsibility that rested on his shoulders. He was a multimillionaire at only 24 years of age, but he handled the pressure with an ease and grace that Maka envied. Despite his name and his seemingly innocent appearance, Kid did not suffer fools. From a business standpoint he was absolutely ruthless. He was not without honor or gentility, always holding to his word when he gave it, but he would squash an opponent without a second thought if he found a weakness in an agreement.

Kid was the Master of Loopholes.

Maka presently wished she were the queen, as she would have loved to find a reason to slip away from his steely gaze.

"We had an appointment," he intoned quietly. Kid never yelled. The angrier he was, the quieter he got. The most terrifying sound in the office at any given time was Kid's complete silence. It was rather akin to a parent telling a child that they were disappointed. The action both stung and wrought terror.

The man was a genius.

"I know!" Maka wailed, edging towards the coffee maker, "I'm sorry, ok? I did my best, the morning just…did not work out for me."

"You don't say?" he sipped on his tea again.

Maka wasn't one for making excuses, and she didn't particularly want to share her humiliation with her boss, but it couldn't make things worse.

"I'm sorry!" she apologized again. "My alarm didn't go off, and I barely got a shower, breakfast didn't happen at all, and then I stopped at a stupid coffee shop to get some stupid coffee, but they got my order wrong, and then after they finally got it right I ran into some guy on the street and spilled it all over him, and he ignored me like a jerk when I tried to apologize, so I sarcastically asked him if he was deaf, and it turned out he was, and here I am, and **I'm sorry**!" she blurted.

Kid stopped mid-sip and blinked at her owlishly.

"Did you just say you rudely asked someone if they were deaf…and they **were**?!"

"Ugh, yes," Maka groaned, cheeks flushing at the mortifying memory.

And then the day got worse.

"BAHAHAHAHA! Oh no, you **SO** did not even!" a voice crowed from around the corner.

Bright blue hair made an appearance before the rest of the man, but Maka knew. She knew before she even saw him that there would be no salvaging this shit-tastic day.

"Please shut up, Black*Star. I already feel like an ass," Maka whimpered, hands covering her face in annoyance.

The blue haired goon only grinned at her, crossing broad arms and leaning against the doorjamb. He wasn't particularly tall, but he was sturdy. His chest was broad, arms muscular, and his neck was thick. When Maka had first met him she had assumed that it had been because he had worked in construction for so long. It turned out that she had been entirely mistaken. He was largely a gym rat, but claimed that, "Heavy lifting during the day keeps me in shape for the gym! A god never rests!"

His ego knew no bounds. He was a nice enough guy, though. He had to be, or her best friend would have never bothered to keep dating him. It amazed Maka that Tsubaki would put up with him at all, considering her mild mannered demeanor. But he added spontaneity to her life, and she, with her Japanese sense of propriety, kept him in check.

Mostly. Sort of. Well, she made an effort.

Maka pulled herself from her reverie, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingertips. A headache the likes of which she had never experienced was brewing behind her eyelids and she exhaled sharply.

"Black*Star, what are you even doing here? You know Tsubaki is out scouting potential sites for the Two Hammers project today," she groused.

"Hey, Flatso, don't get pissed at me because you outed some deafie!" he quipped. Death, he was so crass. "I know she's out. But she left the project plans on her desk for me," he triumphantly raised a rolled piece of paper from the floor and struck a pose. "She knows gods wait for no one!"

And without another word, he pushed himself off the doorjamb and disappeared.

Idiot.

Maka grumbled and groused as she finally managed to pour herself a cup of bitter blackness, inhaling deeply before turning back to Kid. She already felt perkier, as if the simple aroma was enough to revitalize her body.

"So, about our meeting," Kid began, his hands now empty. He had finished his beverage during Black*Star's interlude. "Did you manage to convince Kilik that it wasn't particularly wise to build a structure that was so….top heavy?"

"Welllll," Maka said, a mild wobble in her voice. "Yes and no. We convinced him that the structure shouldn't stand vertically, but he is still insistent on the whole hammer thing."

Kid squinted at her, dubious.

"Is it symmetrical?"

"Yes, Kid," she sighed, closing her eyes to avoid showing her annoyance. He was a smart man, he really was, but she still had to constantly remind him that symmetry was not always the way to go. At least now she could show him mockups of structures that weren't his idea of perfection and he wouldn't devolve into a rabid writhing mass of insanity. Sure, he still twitched for a couple hours, but he was functional.

"Tusbaki and Papa went scouting for sites today. There are several that could work beautifully, just depends on what Kilik prefers. We should be filing for permits within the next couple of weeks.

"Excellent!" Kid brightened. "Good work, Maka," he practically chirped as he strode from the room.

She nodded in silent response and smiled as she lifted her cup to her lips and sweet salvation finally trickled down her throat.


	3. Ivory Footsteps

**A/N: I'm on a roll here. I am pretty pleased with chapter three, but will also admit I am flying by the seat of my pants. I'm writing as ideas come to me (while training to maintain some sense of cohesiveness), but these chapters, while edited for spelling and grammar, are otherwise unread. Don't be surprised if you read this a few days (or even a few minutes) from now and the content is altered (usually addition of content). Chapter 4 is currently in progress, because I'm a glutton for punishment but am totally in love with this idea.**

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><p>Maka's work week mercifully came to an end, and Saturday morning she decided she was in the mood for a jog. There was no particular rhyme or reason to it. She didn't even engage in the activity all that often. She had just felt the inexplicable desire to get out and move, driven by some strange itch that she just couldn't seem to scratch.<p>

After donning some running pants and an old t-shirt she swept her ashen locks up into a ponytail, musing to herself about how she used to keep her hair in pigtails. Such an immature hairstyle, but she'd be lying to herself to say she didn't miss them sometimes. Merrily she made her way down the stairs of her apartment complex and set off on a nice easy run.

Maka put herself on autopilot, allowing her feet to carry her wherever they so chose and she soon found herself in the local park. The autumn air was crisp and clean, the leaves blazing against the sky in wondrous oranges and reds, and she felt the warmth of the smiling sun on the back of her neck. She waved kindly at a little boy who smiled and giggled as she jogged past and then allowed herself to become lost in the rhythm of her footsteps.

It wasn't until she heard footsteps behind her that she got a bit nervous. It wasn't unusual, of course, for other joggers to slip by her, but these footsteps made no attempt to speed up and move past her. They matched her footfalls. And when she increased her speed so did they. She knew that any typical female would have followed the natural instinct to try and escape; to hide somewhere until she felt safe.

Maka Albarn had never been a typical female.

She whirled around on her stalker angrily, invading their space before they had a chance to invade hers.

"What the **hell** are you doing?!" she screamed. "What kind of sicko follows a woman through a park?!"

Her eyes came into focus, having been blurred by anger and adrenaline, and then they widened. The white haired man she had tumbled into all those weeks ago stood in front of her, gesturing wildly. He alternated between putting his finger to her lips to shush her and raising his hands in front of his chest in an attempt to placate her, a large black bag being used intermittently to block any possible kicks to his crotch. Maka managed to stop yelling, but it was the result of shock versus actually being over her tirade.

Several people were staring at them now, and one concerned bystander asked if the strange man was bothering her. She eyed her follower skeptically but stated that everything was fine, she was ok. He wasn't going to hurt her. Mr. Creeper sighed audibly and then awkwardly offered a laminated card for her to view, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched.

**SORRY**

She stared at the offering and then looked into sanguine eyes again, reminded of the first time she had seen one of his cards. And she laughed. Her eyes squinted shut and she threw her head back and laughed like the world was ending and she'd better enjoy every last second she had to live. When she opened her eyes again, his facial expression had gone from sheepish to angry, clearly offended by the rejection of his apology.

While she wanted to feel that this was just payback as he had just stalked her through a park, she instead felt guilty and reached out to grab the sleeve of the leather jacket he wore.

"Wait," she shouted. "Don't go."

He stopped and slowly turned his head back towards her. His eyes were still angry, but she figured he must be willing to hear her out (oh, Death…hear her out!? Was that cruel?) since he had stopped.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed. That wasn't kind of me," she offered him a sheepish smile.

He patted his pockets a bit before pulling out his cell phone, holding up a finger in a gesture for her to wait. His thumbs traveled wildly over the screen before he held it out to her.

_Would you be willing to grab a coffee with me?_

Maka made a confused noise and stared at him.

"You're asking me out?" she asked incredulously.

He began typing furiously again and once more offered her the device.

_Sort of? It was my fault when we ran into each other awhile back, and while you did ruin my favorite shirt, I should have been paying attention._

She smiled a bit as she read the beginning of the message, snorting with great mirth when she finished it.

_Plus I did just kinda stalk you through a public space like a creeper. I owe you for not bashing me in the balls._

"That's…sweet, but, maybe it's not such a good idea," she said in a rush. She was flustered, surprised that it didn't feel strange to her to verbally speak to a deaf man. He seemed to understand her well enough though, and she wasn't going to rush away while they were still conversing. Somehow that felt even more impolite than it would have otherwise.

_What, you afraid of hanging out with a deaf guy?_

He smirked at her, confidence written on his face. He had thrown down the gauntlet. Nobody called Maka Albarn afraid. She wasn't afraid of anything!

She huffed indignantly, hard green gaze meeting lazy ruby.

"Alright then, but **you're** buying!"

He offered a bright smile and nodded his acquiescence, gesturing for her to walk with him. Maka nervously fell into step beside him, unsure of what to do with her hands, or whether or not to try and converse with him. She hoped she wasn't making a huge mistake. But if she were to be completely honest with herself, she was pretty sure it would be a bigger mistake not to go.


	4. The Things Nobody Asks

**A/N: Holy crap it's chapter 4! Kinda totally in love with this chapter. We'll see Tsubaki in chapter 5. That'll probably be completed sometime tomorrow. I'm guesstimating a 10 chapter fic at this point. No promises...we'll see what happens. I have a lot of ideas, but what writer doesn't? Enjoy!**

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><p>It was a short but silent walk to a nearby café. She'd passed this particular place many times, but had never really taken notice of it. It was slightly off the beaten path, a bit of a hole in the wall. She already felt appreciative of it. It had the ominous name of "The White Reaper Café", but the feel inside was cozy and quaint. When she considered the company she currently kept, she was moderately surprised at his choice. He had struck her as a chain store type of fellow.<p>

And then she cursed herself for being so shallow and judging him before she even knew him. Not that she was here to get to know him at all; of course not. He was just offering her a coffee because he'd nearly scared her into an early grave.

Her companion led them to a quiet corner table and began pulling out his laptop. Maka frowned, wondering if he was going to surf the internet or some other such thing when he had supposedly brought her here to make amends. Her consternation was quickly replaced by revulsion when a busty waitress bounced (quite literally) over to their table.

Golden eyes peered keenly at the young man who had already begun to slouch in his chosen seat, and she practically purred as she bid him good day. Her dress left little to the imagination, black and slinky, showing off the kind of curves Maka most definitely did not possess, and long purple hair framed a narrow face. Her nails were long and painted black, looking similar to claws. The irony was not lost on Maka when the woman referred to her compatriot as "kitten."

Red eyes positively lit up when he saw her, and Maka felt her stomach twist again. Was he really so tactless as to bring her to a place where he could ogle other girls? What the hell! She felt her face flushing with anger but attempted to keep a lid on her temper, quick movements catching her eye as she stewed in silence.

Her head tipped with curiosity as the messy haired male suddenly stopped and then turned to her. He flicked his hands about, twisting elegant fingers into shapes she didn't know were possible. When she only furrowed her brow, clearly confused, the waitress giggled softly and spoke.

"He asked if you know how to sign," she chirped brightly.

"Oh!" Maka blinked and dropped her eyes, suddenly ashamed of herself. "N-no, I'm sorry."

The waitress smiled softly, flipping violet locks over her shoulder as she shrugged in relative indifference. She turned once again to the male in the corner and gestured back at him before nodding quickly.

"He wants to play a game," she smirked, trying and failing to hold back another giggle. "I'm Blair, by the way. Don't mind me, just your friendly neighborhood waitress and sign language interpreter! I'll be back in a minute."

And the bubbly woman bounced away again, presumably to take care of other customers.

Maka's gaze returned to her new acquaintance. He seemed entirely too relaxed for the situation, a lackadaisical smile on his face, the front legs of his chair lifting up off the floor as he leaned backwards, long arms folded behind his head. An ivory eyebrow arched upwards on his forehead, an apparent invitation for her to speak. He waited a moment longer before leaning forward and placing a small stack of laminated cards on the table.

"Game?" she inquired, immediately curious.

He huffed lightly, sorting through the cards and nonchalantly placing one in front of her.

**SORT OF**

Her nose wrinkled as she contemplated the card and then the strange person she had chosen to spend her time with. She didn't like not understanding what was going on. But Maka was an intelligent woman and quickly thought back to the two other cards she had seen from him before.

**YES  
>SORRY<strong>

Green eyes lit up with excitement, and she leaned forward as if she were a paleontologist that had made some great discovery.

"Is this how you communicate?" she spoke hurriedly.

This time he frowned. He picked through his cards and placed another in front of her.

**SLOW DOWN**

It was hard for her to contain her excitement, but she did as he asked, speaking more slowly. His answer pleased her. Or rather, her solving of the puzzle pleased her, fingers clenching into happy fists as she read his cards.

**YES** –followed by–**SOMETIMES **

Maka thought about her next question carefully, tongue sticking out of her mouth as she pondered.

"You can read lips, then?" she tilted her head as she asked, moderately annoyed when he rolled his eyes at her before nodding and tapping the "sometimes" card.

"Why only sometimes?" she was horrifically inquisitive.

He began typing on his computer as she finished asking her question, and, had she been a dog, her ears would have perked right up. She was insanely curious about what he was doing, begrudgingly fascinated by his behavior.

As she waited for him to finish writing, Blair returned to set down two large mugs between them. Maka watched as fiery eyes flicked towards the effervescent waitress and recognized the simple sign for "thank you." Blair gestured back a pleasant "You're welcome!" before she asked if Maka needed anything else. She shook her head no and offered her own thanks, thin fingers wrapping possessively around her mug before returning her attention to the man at the computer. It just barely registered in her mind that he must have ordered their drinks when they had first sat down. She was far too immersed in her current conversation to think about anything so trivial as coffee.

Absently, he pushed his pale hair out of his face, the headband he wore clearly doing nothing to help tame it, and gestured for her to come and sit next to him.

Maka was skeptical.

He huffed and frowned at her, clearly exasperated, before he motioned again, more emphatically. When she still didn't budge, he hunched over the keys before cautiously turning the laptop so she could view the screen.

_I'm not trying to pull anything. It's just easier if I don't have to constantly turn the screen. Have a little faith._

Maka had the presence of mind to look abashed, cautiously maneuvering her chair around the table to sit next to him. She was suddenly hyperaware of him; of everything about him. He smelled spicy and smoky, like a bonfire, and she noted that even though he had features that most would consider harsh, she appreciated their unique quality. His carmine eyes were captivating, and there was an almost overwhelming urge to run her hands through his frosty hair. She found herself intrigued by the golden hue of his skin considering the otherwise obvious signs of albinism. He was slouching, as if there was a permanent hump in his back, but she was all too cognizant of his true size. He certainly had a presence about him.

He tapped her and then pointed at the screen.

_You're staring._

She choked on her sip of coffee and tried to hide her blush. He only smiled, smug bastard. She tried to take the focus off her momentary indiscretion by reiterating her earlier question, which he answered with no hesitation.

_I can read lips, but people often speak too quickly for me to understand. Or they're too chicken shit to look at me._

Her head swiveled sharply, eyes surprised and then sad as she contemplated the meaning of his last sentence.

He scowled at her.

_Don't do that._

"Don't do what?" she frowned back.

_Don't pity me. I'm not…damaged._

"Well, that's true enough," she agreed with him. "But your social skills could use a little work."

He only continued to glower.

Rather than dwell on the tension that was clearly building, Maka sipped daintily at her coffee while he indulged in what appeared to be a chai tea. She hummed to herself, contemplating her next question. Clearly he wasn't bothered by her inquisitive nature, and she felt she should indulge in the opportunity while she had the chance. She wasn't sure it would present itself ever again.

He had momentarily lost his focus, checking something on his phone. She forced herself to ignore the rude gesture and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. When he looked up she made sure to look directly at him, and she made a greater effort to enunciate her words.

"Were you born this way?" she asked, hesitant, knowing she was walking a fine line. Especially with someone she had only met once before, twice if you counted the park. Neither run-in had been pleasant, save for the latter resulting in the current excursion.

He sat up a bit straighter, eyes hardening briefly before he sighed and gave her a softened smile.

_If you're asking if my lack of hearing is caused by my albinism, then the answer is no. They are two separate misfortunes._

Maka dared to try her luck one more time. She knew she was prying, but she couldn't help herself. She always wanted to know more, wholly believing in knowledge for the sake of knowledge.

Plus, she was just kind of a nosy bitch.

"How did you go deaf?"

His nostrils flared when she asked this question and he turned away from her abruptly.

She openly cringed, unable to stop herself from reaching out and placing her small hand on his forearm. When he continued to ignore her, she offered a small squeeze, relieved when he opted to face her.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. That was rude of me."

He firmly nodded his agreement.

She smirked at him, embarrassed and amused. He didn't have a problem calling her out and she didn't have a problem with him doing so. Another gulp of coffee was swallowed before she raised her hand to push a stray strand of hair behind an ear. She regarded him silently before speaking again.

"May I ask you one more question?"

His hands were folded in his lap now, posture notably more closed off than when they had first arrived. He was feeling distrustful of her, and that made her feel guilty and small.

"It's not like you have to answer if you don't want to," she said, attempting to be casual.

His brows knitted together for a moment before he gave her a single nod of acceptance.

Maka smiled lightly, pleased that he was willing to allow this one last intrusion.

"What's your name?"

He sat up stick straight and looked at her with startled eyes. His hand pressed to his chest and he leaned forward a little, looking out into the café and then back at her. It was the universal gesture of "Who, me?"

The young woman was unable to stifle a giggle as she nodded at him. "Of course I mean you! Who else could I possibly be asking?" she gestured to strangers in the vicinity. "And I think it's only fair that I know the name of the man that knocked me over and chased me through a park!"

Grassy eyes followed the cursor on his laptop as he wrote for her.

_Nobody has asked me my name in a very long time._

This time, when her eyes fell on his face, there was no pity, no sadness, just genuine interest. She absently patted his knee and softly said, "I'm asking."

He brought his right hand up so Maka could watch him make four simple signs before he lowered it again. Then, before she could say or do anything else, he reached into the breast pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a single card. It was completely pristine, separated from the rest of his deck and unmarred by any touch other than his own. He gently pressed the object into her tiny hand with a hesitant smile.

Maka's gaze dropped to the seemingly blank card and slowly turned it over to read it.

**MY NAME IS SOUL**


	5. Giddy as a Schoolgirl

**A/N: Hello loyal readers. Hope you haven't been going through withdrawals awaiting my next update. Had an animal emergency I have had to spend the last few days attending to, plus the holidays are coming. In any case, here is chapter 5. I had been struggling with some writer's block as well (just for this chapter...I have tons of ideas for the next). I'm not super satisfied with this chapter, but I'm not totally displeased either, so, here ya go.**

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><p>Maka lay curled in a tight ball on the edge of her couch, thick novel in hand, nose buried between the pages. She had been hoping that her voracious literary appetite would keep her from dwelling too much on her afternoon outing. She had been sorely mistaken. With an annoyed huff, she set her book down on the coffee table before tucking her knees beneath her chin and hugging them.<p>

The young woman had learned a few more things about Soul, thinking she would have to be satisfied just learning his name (as if that were enough for her now). She had learned that he had grown up in Boston, had only lived in Death City for the last ten years, he was twenty eight years old, and he had a wicked penchant for sushi. She had also learned that he possessed a bit of a sick sense of humor, often using his com cards to embarrass others for pointing out his inability to hear. He had **fifteen** different cards just for that purpose, including "Tell her what she's won, Johnny!" and "Nailed it!" His personal favorite was "Can you repeat that?" People often tried to do so, and that was hysterical every time.

When she had told him that she felt that was absolutely horrible, Soul had replied that he had no sympathy for them. It was they who had called attention to his handicap simply because they were impatient and lacked understanding. He had raised an eyebrow and pointedly stared at her then. Maka had dropped her head, properly chagrined.

A blush lit up her face and she put a hand against her cheek as she remembered how she had brazenly given him her phone number. Before they had parted ways, he to take care of some personal business, and she…well, because he had somewhere to be, he had asked for her name. It was only fair, after all, since she knew his. Foolishly she spoke, as if that would be useful to him. But he had been kind about it, asking her to write it down for him. She had penned her name onto a nearby napkin, even going so far as to write out the pronunciation. And then she had written her phone number, smiling coyly as she handed him the note before smoothly slipping out of the café.

Truth be told, the poor girl had been beyond flustered. As soon as she was out of sight of the café she had made a mad dash for her apartment as if her ass were on fire. It was absolutely ludicrous, but she had been out of her element. Curling up with a book once she had returned had been her first thought, though it had resulted only in her present frustration.

Huffing heavily, Maka shoved herself up off the couch and reached for her phone. Maybe Tsubaki would be able to offer her some advice. For all her apparent innocence, the young woman was incredibly wise, and she was a good listener. She was also a bit of a closet pervert, which was both fortunate and uncomfortable for straight laced Maka. The memory of catching Black*Star taking her against the counter of the break room at work would forever be burned into her memory and her retinas. That had been borderline unforgivable, and she still felt queasy whenever the memory surfaced.

With a vigorous shake of her head, Maka squelched the feeling in her belly and dialed Tsubaki's number, idly pacing the room while the phone rang.

"Nakatsukasa Tsubaki!" came a cheerful voice.

"Hey 'Baki," Maka responded, equally bright.

"Maka! What's up? Anything the matter?" Tsubaki's voice went from excited to converned

"What?! Nothing's the matter. Why would anything be the matter?" Maka frowned. Was she that easy to read?

"I'm always glad to hear from you Maka, but you usually just text. Unless something important is happening. So, what's up?"

The mossy eyed girl knitted her brows together, sighing into the phone before she gave in and spilled the beans. All of them. How Soul had chased her through the park, the time they'd spent together at the cafe, the way she had given him her phone number. She couldn't help herself. The truth flowed like water from her lips, and she groused a bit as she heard the light tinkling of the Japanese woman's laughter on the other end of the line.

"It's not funny!" she grumped.

"Well," Tsubaki replied, "Maybe not funny, but it certainly is adorable. Maka, you're smitten!"

"That is absolutely ridiculous! I don't even know him!"

"You know enough, don't you? Enough that you're interested. I've never known you to hand out your phone number to veritable strangers," Tsubaki sounded dangerously smug.

Maka stammered into the phone, embarrassed at the assertion, mortified at the realization that perhaps her best friend was right. She _didn't_ just hand out her phone number to random people. Especially not people she barely even knew! Except she did. At least, she did now.

"So," the raven haired woman intoned. "What is it about him that has you so wound up?"

Indeed, what did have her so hung up? He wasn't anything special...was he? She contemplated Tsubaki's question as she fell back onto the couch, mind racing, fingers twitching against the phone she still held to her ear. Her mouth opened, poised to speak when her phone vibrated loudly, startling her. A most undignified shriek burst from her lips and she heard her friend wail on the other end of the line.

"For Death's sake, Maka! What was that about!?"

Maka cast a quick glance to her screen before hurriedly excusing herself from her current conversation, apologizing upside down and sideways for her rude behavior.

"'Baki, I am so so sorry, but I HAVE to go! I'll text you later, ok?"

"Ugh! It's just as well anyway! I think you burst my eardrum!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sooooo sorry, I will take you out to lunch this week, my treat. Ok?" she was practically pleading as she continued to pull back her phone and stare at the screen.

"Go on. I'll talk to you later," Tsubaki acquiesced, though there was a clear smile in her voice. And then there was silence on the other end.

Dainty feet were pulled up onto the couch and Maka hugged her knees, staring intensely at the phone screen. She felt like a giddy teenager and her ears pinked as she read the simple text message over and over.

**HEY. IT'S SOUL.**


	6. Mobster Chic

**A/N: It has become abundantly clear to me that this thing is totally gonna be longer than ten chapters. No clue what the end result will be in terms of length, but I'm pretty effing stoked. Kinda totally loving this chapter. You guys will be waiting for smut for at least another three...sorry, that's just how the progression is working out in my head.**

**Shit's gonna get real pretty soon, though. Hope you have your hankies handy**

* * *

><p>Sunday morning came far too slowly for Maka. She had spent most of her night tossing and turning, unable to put her conversation with Soul out of her mind. His presence lingered long after she had quit speaking with him, and the weight of that fact was not lost on the young woman.<p>

She didn't much care for it.

And yet, though she had managed only four or five hours of sleep, she had awoken refreshed and bright eyed. The laughing sun greeted her through her window and she smiled broadly in return. Long fingers slid through messy ashen locks and she contemplated what to do after breakfast. In spite of her better judgment, she had agreed to go out on a date with Soul. An _actual_ date. On a Sunday no less!

Maka had done her best to dissuade him, but resistance was beyond futile. Every argument she threw at him he easily defeated. Arguing that Sunday was to be a day of rest in preparation of the work week earned a textual scoff. Mentioning that she had an 8 AM meeting with her boss resulted in him calling her "grandma." Stating the obvious that people just _didn't_ go out on dates on _Sunday_ allowed him to educate Maka in the ways of Soul.

"Just because other people don't go out on Sunday," he'd said, "doesn't mean that we can't."

Societal conventions did not apply to him as far as he was concerned. At least, he worked hard to make it appear that way.

As far as she was concerned, convention was absolutely everything. Her philandering father had made her skeptical of men. Even that was putting it mildly. She had worked long and hard to avoid any sort of relationship, deeming the opposite sex untrustworthy and nothing but trouble wrapped in heartache. Dating in high school was never a priority for her, and once she had made it to college, keeping her grades high and her career sights on the level were all she had time for.

Shaking the last of the nighttime cobwebs and conversation from her sleep-addled brain, Maka slipped from her bed, donned a robe, and headed to her kitchen. She really wasn't much of a cook, but she could manage waffles if she put her mind to it. Yeah, it was definitely a waffles kind of day.

* * *

><p>The early afternoon found Maka and Tsubaki in a local dress boutique. It was an attempt to find Maka something suitable for her date, but absolutely nothing was living up to her standards. Tsubaki was relatively sure that had it not been for her presence her best friend would have torched the place out of sheer frustration. It was really quite comical, but the inky haired woman kept her mirth in check, continuing to make suggestions.<p>

"How about this one, sweetie?" she held up a strapless little black number with asymmetrical ruching.

Straw colored locks flailed wildly from the other side of a clothing rack as Maka shot down Tsubaki's latest find.

"He said 'Little-black-dress-like attire,' he _didn't_ say an actual little black dress!"

"Oh for heaven's sake, Maka! What are you going to do? Dress like a virgin for him?" Tsubaki chuckled lightly. "I think we both know that particular ship has long since sailed!" she squawked as a yellow monstrosity hit her right in the face.

"Point taken," she coughed before straightening her ponytail and beginning her search anew.

"Goddamn it!" Maka spluttered angrily as metal squealed across the rack. "Is it so much to ask that I find a dress that's...just...right."

Tsubaki raised an eyebrow and walked around the clothing stand, curious as to what her jittery companion had found.

"'Baki...I think I found it..." her voice was barely a whisper. She almost sounded like she was going to cry.

"No need to get upset, Maka. It's just a dress..." an elegant hand alighted on a pale shoulder.

"No. No, 'Baki, I found _the_ dress," Maka spoke more forcefully as she held up her prize.

There was a gasp, and then a smile, and then a perverted glint that lit up Tsubaki's eyes as she looked over Maka's find.

"That is most definitely the dress. If this doesn't do it for him, nothing's gonna."

Maka held back a squeal of delight, flushed with happiness as she began discussing the perfect set of shoes she had to go with it, and how she needed to find a new necklace and some earrings. The willowy woman beside her only smiled and nodded as she lead her to the cashier. Her friend didn't realize how smitten she was, but perhaps, for now, that was best.

* * *

><p>After she had made her purchase, Maka and Tsubaki had enjoyed a leisurely lunch at a nearby restaurant before going their separate ways. Tsubaki had plans with Black*Star (plans that Maka did not need to or want to know about) and Maka felt the need to take a nap and relax before getting ready for her date. She was anxious and on edge and figured that a nice long soak in the tub would do her some good.<p>

Water had always soothed her nerves and she spent as much time around it or in it as she could. Unfortunately such opportunities were fleeting in Nevada and time spent in the tub was all she had. But she didn't complain. Instead she immersed herself in silken liquid, blew bubbles like an immature child, and splashed about while drawing patterns through the tiny ripples she created.

By the time she had to pull herself out to dry and style her hair, she was much more at ease, smiling at herself in the mirror before moving to slip on her earlier purchase. It was a tasteful dress, though not particularly conservative. It was an emerald hue to match her jewel toned eyes, the cut at the hem asymmetrical to draw attention to her long legs and away from her modest chest. The top of the dress came together in a simple halter with the front only offering a hint of creamy skin, and the material was smooth silk that slid in the most absolutely sinful way across her body.

She had chosen simple white heels and a string of small pearls her mother had sent to her as accessories, her tiny earlobes dotted with emerald studs. Wheaten locks had been pulled up into a simple updo with two curled tendrils framing her narrow face, revealing her long neck. Her make up was simple. Light metallic green eye shadow and classic red lipstick. There was no need to overdo it. Simplicity was beauty. Maka had to hand it to herself, she looked pretty fucking fantastic.

She still didn't understand why she was trying so hard to impress him, but at least she had accepted it.

A quick glance at the clock showed that she still had fifteen minutes before his arrival and she hurriedly dug through her cache of purses and clutches before settling on a gold trimmed clutch of brilliant white leather. She rolled her eyes at herself, acknowledging how ridiculously girly it all was. Maka had never fancied herself a "girly girl," but her present behavior and state of dress was proof enough that, deep down, she was.

It really wasn't so bad.

* * *

><p>There had been much hemming and hawing on his part about asking for her address as he hadn't wanted to make her uncomfortable. Maka had thought it cute, if not a bit silly (not that she had told him that), and had assuaged his concern with simple logic. If she felt safe enough to go out with him on another date (because the coffee thing <em>totally<em> counted as a date), she most certainly felt safe enough to give him her address. Besides, she could take care of herself, she wasn't a simpering weakling.

"Being a woman and being weak are not synonymous, Soul," she'd said, mildly perturbed.

"Synony-what now?" he had asked her.

"They're not the same."

She had received the non-committal text of "Mmm," and left it at that.

Among the myriad of things Maka had already learned about her new companion, she also learned that he was surprisingly punctual. She hadn't pegged him as the type. But she also hadn't considered him to be the kind of man that would enjoy a quaint coffee shop either, and she mentally slapped herself for judging him again. A quick text was sent his way before she threw on her pea coat and made her way downstairs to meet him. He had offered to come up, but Maka had told him not to bother. She appreciated the chivalry, and the offer of such a gesture was enough for her.

The sight she was greeted with had, yet again, not been what she was expecting. Soul was casually leaning against the hood of a taxi, though he stood up straight to present himself when he became aware of her arrival. He wore a black pinstripe suit with a blood red undershirt that brought out his eyes, a black tie, and shiny black oxford shoes. His hair was as unruly as ever, barely tamed by the thin black headband he sported, and a long black trench coat hung from his broad frame.

If there was such a thing as mobster chic, Soul was rocking the shit out of it.

Rather than giving him the satisfaction of acknowledging how rakishly handsome she thought he looked, Maka schooled her face into a relatively neutral facade, offering him only a smile and a nod in greeting. It was not lost on her when his sanguine eyes traveled the length of her body, lingering longer than necessary on her legs as he opened the cab door for her.

Maka slid coolly by, daring to stop only a hairsbreadth from his face so he could read her ruby stained lips.

"You're staring, Soul."


	7. Red Alabaster

**A/N: Chapter 7! W00T! Only note for this chapter is that italicized letters = Maka texting and bold italicized is Soul texting/signing. Any regular speech will be treated the same as ever**

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><p>The cab ride to their destination was relatively short, thankfully. Perhaps ten minutes or so. Truth be told, Maka actually felt at ease around Soul, but her inquisitive nature got the best of her. She poked and prodded him through texts, asking where they were going. He only smiled and shook his head, offering the simple response that he was sure she'd enjoy herself.<p>

Upon their arrival, Soul deftly exited the cab and made his way around to Maka's door, offering his hand to help her out. She couldn't help but blush. The last time she'd had a man treat her in such a gracious manner had been…well, never. It just didn't seem to occur to the opposite sex that while equality was a wonderful thing, sometimes a little old fashioned gentility was desired and appreciated.

Red eyes perused her form once more before he lead the curious blonde into a small alleyway. Maka grew momentarily dubious, eyeing him warily before he gave a gentle smile and tugged at the sleeve of her jacket. His eyes were soft, his body relaxed, and she followed his lead with the realization that if he had wanted to harm her, he could have done so long before now.

Hidden away within a small alcove of the alley wall was an oak door, and Soul knocked on it twice. A slat in the top section slid open and Maka heard a gruff voice ask for a password. She nearly laughed, it was so absurd! Was he taking her to a speakeasy? Was this 1920's Chicago? She chuckled lightly to herself and watch as Soul pulled out one of his com cards.

There was a grunt and a slight clack as the eye port was closed, followed by a creak and a groan as the heavy door was pulled open. A gust of warm air hit Maka in the face forcing a surprised gasp from her lips and she walked forward on slightly wobbly legs as Soul lead her inside.

The door slowly closed behind the two of them, the lighting set up in such a way that the corridor was in almost complete darkness. Maka jumped and lightly fell into Soul when a voice wafted from the shadows.

"We bid you good evening and welcome to The Black Room."

Her pale face turned to scan the darkness, but her eyes found nothing and she was forced to continue her way forward with her partner who showed no concern at all with their surroundings. The lighting brightened only moderately as they made their way down the hall, and it opened into a room with a red and black checkered floor. Thick velvet drapes of deep crimson hung behind a low stage and the entirety of the seating was comprised of five or six booths along the walls with two round tables set in front of a couple speakers.

This place, whatever it was, was obviously exclusive, and Maka felt out of place. Soul shared none of her concern, his large hand closing around hers as he lead her to a booth. His phone was immediately retrieved from his trench coat pocket once he had taken Maka's coat and settled himself opposite her. The device was held up a little, wiggled, and then he gestured at her lightly, eyebrows raised.

It was only their second date, but Maka was already glad she had picked up on the small hints that Soul gave. He was very consistent, and thus, relatively easy to read. Reaching into her clutch she pulled out her own phone and mirrored his earlier gesture with a smile before her nimble fingers skipped over the keyboard. Less than two minutes into being seated and Maka was already asking questions. She didn't waste any time.

_What is this place?_

_**The Black Room ;)**_

_Ha. Ha ha. Ha. But seriously, where are we?_

**_It's a small club I frequent. Good food, good jazz music, good time._**

Maka sat up abruptly, studying the man across from her. She was feeling suddenly nervous, unsure what to do with herself in such an atmosphere. Jazz wasn't really her thing. **Music** wasn't her thing. She liked it, like most people did, but she didn't particularly understand it. She found jazz particularly elusive to comprehend as she felt there was no real structure to it. Jazz was a very grey area of music in Maka's simple world of black, white, and trance fusion.

Her attention was drawn back to Soul as he gently nudged her ankle with his foot, a half smile upon his face as he texted her.

_**Something wrong?**_

She shook her head lightly before she responded to him, wishing it were brighter in the room so she could speak to him verbally. The disconnect between them when they had to speak through machinery was frustrating and she didn't care for the loss she felt when she couldn't look directly at him.

_Music isn't really my thing. I don't understand it._

Soul chuckled a little as he read her reply. Maka blushed, embarrassed at having to admit that she didn't understand something.

_**It's not about understanding, really. Just feeling.**_

_I don't really understand that, either._

**_That's ok. I'll teach you. I'm a patient man._**

Maka inhaled sharply, eyes flicking upwards to look into Soul's shadowed eyes. His entire countenance oozed confidence and he appeared incredibly serene. It was as if nothing in the world could bother him. The only person that held his attention was sitting in front of him, trying desperately to figure him out. She had a long wait ahead of her, but it was apparent she didn't mind.

Raising a hand to run his fingers through his hair, he exhaled softly before tapping a button embedded in the wall. The duo was promptly made a trio as a surprisingly squat man with pinched features and abnormally large eyes arrived at their table. He was balding, and his arms seemed strangely long for his frame with his legs appearing abnormally short. A large nose protruded from betwixt the nose pads of a black pair of spectacles.

He looked more like a Goblin than a man.

"Ahhh," came a low voice, almost hissed. "Good evening Soul. I see you brought company with you tonight." Awkward hands signed as he spoke.

_**Good evening Oni.** _Soul grinned devilishly as he signed, as if to try and out-demon the little goblin man. _**Indeed, I did bring company. A menu for the lady, please.**_

Maka watched the exchange silently, continually fascinated by the way hands artfully or awkwardly positioned themselves. The idea that this was a form of speech both boggled her mind and intrigued her.

"As you wish, Master Soul," the man called Oni replied, a snide sneer on his lips. "The usual for you then?"

Soul offered a single nod, clearly finished with their conversation.

Turning to Maka, Oni offered a slight bow as he inquired of her, "A drink for the lady?"

It took her a moment to regain her faculties, as between being awestruck by sign language and confounded by the physical appearance of their waiter, she had forgotten his purpose entirely. Blinking away the cloudiness that plagued her mind, she offered him a small smile and requested a glass of Cabernet.

Taking another short bow the little ogre scurried off into the shadows, and Maka was once again left with her alabaster demon.


	8. Sway

**A/N: I friggin' love this chapter. That's basically all I have to say. Italics = Maka texting bold italics is soul, italics in quotation marks is singing**

**Links to songs:  
>Sway - watch?v=zmYMkl1Grzc<br>Unforgettable - **** watch?v=zFhl2ddckKc**

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><p>Dinner was eaten in relative silence, largely because it was just too hard and frustrating to eat and stop to text each other to hold up a discussion. Soul commented that he was surprised Maka had ordered herself a steak and Maka had been pleased to have surprised him for a change. She commented on the fact that he had ordered a martini but drank none of it. She did not press when he simply said that his father had liked them.<p>

When dinner had concluded Soul slipped out of the booth and offered his hand once again. Maka reached for her coat, but Soul shook his head and tugged her gently. She had learned that it was easier to just follow him when he tugged at her, and did as he requested. He pulled out a seat for her at one of the tables near the speakers and, to her surprise, followed up his chivalry by offering her ear plugs.

Her nose crinkled and she looked up at him. "What are these for?"

Soul gestured to several mics over the stage and in front of the chairs where the musicians sat. When it was clear Maka did not understand his explanation, he texted her quickly.

**_I may be deaf, but you aren't. If you'd like to keep it that way, I'd suggest you put in the ear plugs :p_**

"What?" that was of no help to her at all.

**_The Black Room is meant as a music hangout for the deaf. Everything is…louder._**

At this, Maka nodded and took the ear plugs from him, daintily inserting them into her small ears. She picked the perfect moment to don her protective gear as musicians filed onto the stage. When they were settled, a tall, lithe woman with dark hair joined them to proudly stand in front of the center stage microphone. She wore a long red dress that glittered, hands adorned in elbow length black silk gloves. Long wavy hair fell over one of her eyes, coyly hiding half her face. Her lips were stained an enticing deep red and Maka could not help but stare. She was breathtaking, like a starlet from the 1940s.

There was a slight hiss offstage before Oni's voice wafted eerily over the sound waves. "Good evening ladies and gentleman, and welcome to The Black Room. Please enjoy the entertainment as Ms. Jacqueline O'Lantern Dupre lights up your night."

Maka watched as a long arm slowly rose in the air and with a soft snap of the soloist's fingers a spotlight was on her and the blaring of brass cut through the silence. She managed not to jump, but Maka's eyes widened in surprise as the bright horns cut through the protection of her ear plugs and she felt the vibrations run through her body due to the nearness of the speakers. Soul only grinned.

The woman on stage moved her hips sensually as she began to sing, as animated as the music that backed her.

"_When marimba rhythms start to play, dance with me, make me sway__. Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore,  
>hold me close, sway me more."<em>

Dark eyes roamed the room before falling on Maka. Jacqueline grabbed the mic from the stand before nimbly hopping off the stage, gliding over to the couple's table. She was not particularly subtle when she approached Maka, gloved hand sliding across the back of her neck.

_"Like a flower bending in the breeze, bend with me, sway with ease.__ When we dance you have a way with me, stay with me, sway with me."_

When the singer slipped around the other side of the table to sensually draw her fingers along Soul's jawline, grinning at him seductively, Maka felt her temper flare. She felt disgust in the pit of her stomach followed by…what was that? Was she _jealous_? That was absurd! She knew it wasn't what she _should_ feel, but that's what it was, and she couldn't hold back her glare. Soul didn't notice, but Hot Lips McSkankface did, and she looked moderately apologetic as she moved away from them.

Maka nudged Soul's ankle with her foot, nodding at his phone.

_You really like this stuff?_

**_What's not to like?_**

_True. It can't be all that bad having women hanging on you._

Soul didn't rise to the bait, replying casually with a shrug of his shoulders.

**_Part of the act, nothing more. I'm here with you._**

Maka tried not to doubt his sincerity, but her father's unfaithfulness kept kicking at the back of her mind. She did her best to shove away her misgivings. After all, she was having a pretty great time, even if she didn't really "get" music. Her remembrance of that fact prompted her next question.

_Why do you like music so much?_

He blinked at her, pondering her question before answering succinctly.

**_Because it's part of who I am, even if I can't hear it anymore. I can hear it in my head, I can hear it in my heart. _**

She blushed brightly at his confession. The honesty of it was refreshing, but the poetry of his words, well, that was sexy. Especially if he hadn't meant to be.

_I wish I could understand that._

**_Who says you can't? What's something you really enjoy doing?_**

It was Maka's turn to ponder. Her answer came to her quickly, a smile lighting up her face.

_Reading! I love to read!_

Soul chuckled, though it went unheard, covered by the melodies of the band.

**_I guess I shouldn't be surprised you're a bookworm._**

Maka's brow creased, unsure whether or not she should be offended.

_What's that supposed to mean?_

**_Nothing. You just seem like the type. But the way you smiled when you mentioned reading is how I feel about music._**

Suddenly, she understood. She didn't _get_ music, but perhaps she could. Perhaps she could get him if she could fully grasp what music meant. Her smile could not be contained as she beamed at him, attention returning to the stage.

A slow ballad had begun and Jacqueline's eyes had closed, revealing shimmering gold eye shadow. She swayed lightly in front of the mic before her smooth, airy alto filled the small space.

_"Unforgettable, that's what you are. Unforgettable though near or far. Like a song of love that clings to me, how the thought of you does things to me. Never before has someone been more…"_

Maka looked away from the stage only to catch Soul staring at her. He was slightly flushed, his ear tips tinged red, but he didn't look away from her. A shy smile was offered followed by his open palm. There was a slight hesitation on her part before her fingers tentatively inched forward and slid into his hand.

"_Unforgettable in every way__. And forever more, that's how you'll stay. That's why, darling, it's incredible that someone so unforgettable, thinks that I am unforgettable too."_

* * *

><p>They found themselves at Maka's apartment door at one o'clock in the morning. It was far later than Maka had originally intended to stay out, particularly on a work night. She really couldn't find it in herself to care.<p>

Soul had insisted on walking her to her door, once again displaying the chivalry she had by now deemed characteristic of him. She shocked herself by asking him if he wanted to come inside. It was only their second date! Was that slutty? Maybe? Yes...definitely yes.

He blushed, hair spilling over his eyes when he ducked his head. It was possible to shake that confident visage of his. He stepped closer to her and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. Long fingers traveled along her jaw and under her chin to tip her head up. He was so close. Maka just had to raise up on her toes to kiss him, but she stood bolted to the floor, breath shaky, eyes half lidded. He leaned in, closer and closer, and at the last second he gently tipped her head slightly to place a soft kiss on her cheek. Maka barely had time to register the sensation before he was gone, heading down the stairs to catch his cab and leaving her dumbfounded and wanting.

Slipping into her apartment, she sighed as she leaned against the closed door. She was ashamed of her behavior, thinking she must have made a mistake by being so brash. And then the text came.

_**Always leave them wanting more.**_

And she most certainly wanted more.


	9. Blue Mayhem

**A/N: This really isn't where I want it to be, but I was struggling. The next chapters will be far easier for me to write, but I needed a bridge for some of the plot points, and this was the best way for me to do it. Getting started was tough, but that's how it goes sometimes. Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>Maka was unmotivated. It was quite unusual, because Maka was never unmotivated. Her whole life had been nothing but schedules and plans, all existing simply because she was so goddamn motivated all the time. But presently she felt like doing absolutely nothing.<p>

The morning had dawned grey and gloomy and for awhile she thought that was the epicenter of her sloth. It wasn't. She felt incredibly bright emotionally speaking, sunny and satisfied. If she were to be so bold, she would probably say that she was irrefutably happy. Her happiness was interfering with her work. The best she could hope for was that nobody noticed.

Tsubaki noticed.

"Well, well, Ms. Albarn!" Tsubaki teased. "You are somehow managing to look bright eyed and exhausted all at the same time. You have a hot date last night?"

Maka offered a smile, elbow propping up on her desk so her head could lean against her hand.

"I had a date, yes. It was….enjoyable," she finished carefully. She didn't want to divulge too much.

"You know you have to tell me about it later, right?" the raven haired woman playfully bumped her hip against the seat of her friend's chair. "But in the meantime, Kid is getting antsy about those sketches for Ms. Gorgon. You might want to get on those."

Ashen hair was swept up and away from her neck to settle on her shoulders before Maka gave an answer in the affirmative. Her hand reached out for her sketchbook and Tsubaki made to move away when Maka called out to her.

"Hey 'Baki?"

"Yeah?"

"What does being in love feel like?" Maka's eyes were downcast, her brows knit together in pensive concentration. She knew it was an unusual question to ask, but there was no one else she knew that could help her.

Tsubaki was surprised by the inquiry, but she smiled just the same. Her arms crossed over her chest as she considered the question and then sighed. She knew the answer she was about to give wouldn't be satisfying to her friend.

"It is truly indescribable, Maka."

Maka frowned.

"I wish I could give you something more concrete, but there are no words for it. No words good enough, anyway. All I can tell you is that if you know, then you know," a gentle hand alighted on Maka's shoulder. "And," she continued, voice serious, but kind, "if there is somebody out there skilled enough to open your heart to even the possibility of love, maybe you're on your way already."

Maka nodded absently as Tsubaki departed. Her phone was unceremoniously pulled from her purse and she shot off a rapid fire text before she could stop herself.

_Hey…you wanna maybe go out for lunch today?_

Her stomach lurched while she waited for a reply. It disgusted her that she was so wound up over asking Soul to lunch, which only caused the knot in her stomach to coil tighter.

**_Yeah, that'd be great. I can't get away until 1:00. That ok?_**

When his reply came she went from nauseated to so excited she had to pee. She felt she was an embarrassment to feminism and women everywhere. Whatever, her dreary day was looking up, and she felt considerably more motivated than she had all day.

* * *

><p>Maka had been hoping to avoid any incidents in regards to her...boyfriend? Dating partner? Buddy she has dinner with? She didn't even know what to call him at this particular junction, but she knew she did not want to answer a ton of questions, nor did she want Soul interrogated by her friends. Or worse, her father.<p>

It was as if the cosmos were laughing at her, as the office was full of all of the people she did not want interacting with Soul. Black*Star had arrived to pick up Tsubaki for lunch, her father had shown up looking for another set of blueprints (and had, as expected, smothered her like hollandaise sauce over eggs), and Kid...well, she supposed he wasn't such a concern. Then again, karma was not presently smiling upon her.

As she always did, she heard him before she saw him. The unmistakable sound of Black*Star's voice, raucous as ever. He seemed to be asking somebody who they were looking for, and when no answer came, Maka's heart fell into her feet. No. No, no, no. Nononononono. Soul couldn't meet Black*Star first. It had to be **anybody** but Black*Star. But Black*Star's questions continued as Maka raced down the short corridor to try and save poor Soul. She arrived in time to see the pair sizing each other up, Black*Star leaning towards the larger man, Soul leaning away from the blue haired weirdo.

"Hey, Maka! You know who this is? Won't answer anything I ask him, just stares at me."

Maka's hand found her face, the slap echoing in the hallway. She grit her teeth together and responded tersely, fingers reaching out to tug at Soul's jacket. He quietly moved to stand beside her while Maka attempted to clear the air.

"Black*Star, this is Soul. He's...a friend. Just came by to take me to lunch. And he didn't answer you because he can't hear you."

Red eyes shifted to give the blue haired dwarf a dubious glance. It was the mother of all side eyes.

"Ohhhhh! This must be the deafie you've been dating!" it was out of his mouth before he could think to stop himself. Not that he would have stopped himself anyway. Or thought about it. Thinking was not Black*Star's strong suit.

Soul's eyes went wide and then his fist flew forward, knocking his new adversary on his back. Maka shrieked as Soul stood over the fallen idiot, chest heaving, though his face was shockingly neutral. Another shriek followed shortly after when Tsubaki rounded the corner to see her boyfriend laid out on the carpet.

"WHAT HAPPENED!?" she yelled.

"SOUL PUNCHED HIM!" Maka yelled back.

"WHO IS SOUL?!"

"That's Soul!" Maka pointed at the man standing over Black*Star. Soul only waved, completely unconcerned by the whole situation.

Tsubaki moved to help Black*Star up, but Soul had already squatted down next to him, balancing neatly on the balls of his feet as he began to sign.

_**I told you what would happen if you called me that again.**_

Black*Star groaned and gripped his head as he sat up. He momentarily glared at Soul before he burst into near insane laughter, signing back to the deaf man as he spoke.

"You're right man, that wasn't cool. I earned that one."

Maka was incredulous. "Are you freaking kidding me?! Does everybody know how to sign except me?!"

Kid had made his appearance, staring blankly at Maka as he asked, "Really? That's the part you're focusing on?" It was oddly comical.

Maka could do nothing but splutter, face red, a headache blossoming behind her eyes. "I just...he was...and Black*Star...Soul punched..."

Kid held up his hand and merely shook his head. An explanation wasn't truly needed. "Whatever it was, I'm sure Black*Star deserved it. But Death on a doorknob, Maka! We can't have people barging in and knocking him out for everything he says. He'll end up spending more time at the hospital than he does at work. And that's a borderline issue as it is." Golden eyes narrowed at the blue haired idiot who didn't even have the decency to look like he felt bad about it.

"In the meantime," Kid continued on, "take your lunch break with...Soul, was it? In fact, I would suggest taking the rest of the afternoon. I doubt you'll get any work done while you're trying to figure out how to scold this behemoth."

Soul quickly typed on his phone and offered it to Kid.

_**I can read your lips you know.**_

A steely gazed was fixed on Soul as Kid nonchalantly leaned forward. "Oh, I know." He clasped his hands behind his back and promptly turned away, heading back down the hall to his office.

Soul typed again and handed the phone to Maka.

_**I like him.**_

Maka rolled her eyes and blew a strand of hair out of her face. "Of course you do. Come on, we need to get going before anybody else shows up," she growled. By anybody else she meant her father. "And you also have some explaining to do about...this...thing," she gestured between Soul and Black*Star, clearly indicating she wanted to know what their connection was.

His jacket sleeve was grabbed roughly and she dragged him towards the exit. Soul tossed a smile over his shoulder and gave a merry wave, blissfully unaware of the storm that was brewing in his little companion.


	10. Flare

**A/N: I'm probably going to end up doing some sort of time skip thing within the next couple of chapters, but the next two should still be linear with only a few days passing in between. This chapter is short, but sweet, and I am very happy with it. Enjoy the saccharine stickiness that is SoMa**

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><p>Maka dragged Soul out into the crisp air of the afternoon. It was still drizzling out, which did not improve her now sour mood. While she enjoyed water, she did so in appropriate attire, that being a swimsuit or nothing at all. It did not appeal to her to have her dry clean only designer clothing sticking to her skin.<p>

When they had traveled a couple of blocks in necessary silence (more so Maka wouldn't bludgeon the man than anything) Maka abruptly halted. Her small hand was held out and placed forcefully against Soul's broad chest, a small "Oof!" escaping him. He canted his head and stared down at her, legitimately confused, which only seemed to anger Maka further.

Stormy emerald eyes bore into ruby as she spoke. Her voice was low and there was a clear edge to it, one she wished he could hear.

"What. The hell. Was that?"

He frowned at her as he began to understand what she was talking about. A hand dipped into the pocket of his leather jacket to retrieve his phone, but she halted him. Maka was small but she was also mighty, and she was still fucking pissed.

"Don't bother, Soul. Don't fucking bother!" her eyes never left his, though she knew he was watching her lips. At least he was making an effort to listen, small consolation that it was.

"That was totally unacceptable! I know Black*Star can be a real asshole, but for Death's sake! Do you really think it's acceptable to come to my place of work and deck one of my co-workers!? Do you!?"

His mouth opened as if to answer, but she held her hand up to him.

"Oh, I am **so** not done! This is not going to work if you go off half-cocked like this. Is this a usual thing for you!? My boyfriend can't go around **punching people** every time they say something derogatory! And if you had waited two seconds I would have stood up for you!"

The last bit of Maka's speech belied her anger, her eyes turning cloudy with sadness.

"I…I have trusted you ever since you ran into me at the park. I trusted you because if I wanted to spend time with you, get to know you, I had to let myself believe you were a safe person. And I would have had to place that trust in you whether you could hear me or not," she whispered, her hand reaching up to rest against a tan cheek.

"Why couldn't you trust me enough to smack down that shithead?"

Soul peered at her, bewildered and cautious. He made no move for his phone, offered no com card for her to view. He furrowed his brow and dropped his gaze to the pavement, considering, calculating, shifting on his feet with nervous energy. When he finally returned his attention to her, his large hand reached up to mirror her action, warm palm pressed to her chilled cheek.

A careful thumb traced the line of her cheekbone and his Adam's apple bobbed as he tried to swallow the knot in his throat. And then his head dipped and there was the faintest brush of his lips against hers. It could barely be considered a kiss, but it was enough to electrify his skin and he stared at Maka with soft eyes. He just waited. She'd either kick him in the balls or…well, knowing what he did thus far about her fiery temper, he expected the kick to the balls.

She kissed him back.

There was nothing tentative about it. He was the one to gasp into her mouth and she was the one to pull him closer, her hand tangled in the lining of his jacket. She pulled back to look at him again, eyes half lidded, all traces of anger having dissipated with the surprise of sudden intimacy. She was startled out of her reverie when her phone vibrated in her pocket.

**_Boyfriend, huh?_**

She gaped at him. When did he have the time to pull out his damn phone!? Was he that smooth or was she just that out of it? Shaking her head and snorting in feigned annoyance, she responded to him.

_Yeah, boyfriend. At least as long as you don't go around punching people anymore._

Maka was unable to hold back her smile as she realized their relationship status had just been solidified. The smile was quickly wiped away when she realized there was still some vital information missing from the earlier encounter between Soul and Star.

_You realize you still owe me an explanation about you and Black*Star, right?_

She received a response of various emojis that voiced his displeasure. Totally mature of him.

_Don't you give me that. Come on, you can tell me over lunch. I'm buying today._

Soul immediately perked up at this response, mouth tipping up in a broad half grin. His stomach chose to rumble at the same moment and he blushed, offering his girlfriend (holy shit, he had a girlfriend!) an apologetic shrug.

Maka only rolled her eyes before raising on her toes to give him a light peck on the lips. She could definitely get used to that.

"Come on you idiot, let's get some lunch."


	11. Caught

**A/N: Sorry for the disappearance. In my head this story is actually complete, but I have not had the motivation to actually put it to virtual paper. That said, I managed this very short chapter for you. I am unsure if I want to go right to chapter 12, or if I am going to add what is currently labeled chapter 12 to this and do a separate scenes sort of thing.**

**This chapter is heavy in text interactions with plain italics being Maka and bold italics being Soul.**

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><p>It was cozy in the diner. Warm and welcoming, and it gave Maka and Soul a much needed reprieve from the rain. Their orders had already been taken and Maka daintily sipped at a warm cup of tea while Soul indulged in a strawberry milkshake.<p>

_It's freezing outside. How can you even drink that?_

**_It is *never* too cold for a milkshake._**

Maka held back an eye roll, choosing instead to fiddle with the wrapper from her straw. She felt rather than saw Soul watching her, but said nothing. He still owed her an explanation for what had happened at her office, but she didn't want to nag. There was a fine line between gaining information and being a nag, and she didn't want to cross it.

She faintly registered the tapping of his fingers on his phone, jumping a bit when her own vibrated on the table in front of her.

**_I punched him because we're friends._**

The blonde looked up, face crumpled in undeniable confusion. Soul didn't notice, too busy with typing to acknowledge her.

**_He's known me for 10 years. We just wanted to mess with you a little bit. But he knows better than to call me…that. I'm deaf, but I'm not blind. I know people talk about me, I read body language as well as I read lips, if not better. I expect more out of my friends._**

_Ok, first of all, mean :p Secondly….ten years? You've known that blue haired ape for *ten years*!?_

He was staring at her again, and this time green eyes met red. The two regarded each other in silence for a moment, each calculating their next move. Relationships were tricky things and it had dawned on them that neither of them truly knew much about each other. But then, that was why people dated, wasn't it?

Maka threw down the gauntlet first.

_You have a lot of secrets._

Soul threw down a bigger gauntlet.

**_I do. And yet, you know more about me than I do about you._**

Pale ears tinged red as Maka inwardly acknowledged his assessment. It was true. She had shared very little about herself with him, and yet she continuously asked him to share more and more of himself with her. The lack of reciprocity was telling, and he was calling her on it.

_Touché. You caught me. What is it you want to know?_

In classic Soul fashion, he gave her a succinct reply.

**_Everything._**

A brilliant smile and a sincere laugh escaped her. He never divulged more than he felt like sharing, and even though their time together had been short, their relationship newly labeled, Maka understood that what he shared with her he gave of his own volition. No amount of poking, prodding, or pestering on her part would ever make it otherwise. It was only right that she offer him the same courtesy.

_Come by my place for dinner tomorrow? I can't cook to save my life, but I know a great Thai place…_

**_I'll bring the movies!_**

_Movies?_

**_Oh please. We cannot have takeout and share secrets without movies :P_**

It was Maka's turn to smirk.


End file.
